


a tangible presence

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mindless Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up where 3x04 ended, with Isaac in Scott's bedroom. </p>
<p>There are cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a tangible presence

**Author's Note:**

> I can't say that I've had experiences anywhere near as traumatic as Isaac, but I tried my hardest to make his reactions as realistic as possible, to not offend or trigger anyone, and to stay true to the character. If I've missed wildly, please let me know.

Frankly Scott didn't know what else to do. Isaac looked so utterly miserable standing there soaked and shaking that Scott didn't even wait to get approval from his mom, he just agreed. _Yes, of course you can stay. Anything for you. Anything you ask of me, I will try with every fiber in my being._

But what he said was, "Yeah, yeah sure." 

And Isaac was shaking and silent, but Scott did his best not to notice, and simply showed him the bathroom and let him shower. Isaac could talk to him later, when he was ready. 

The rest of Scott's homework lay unfinished, there was nothing to it for the rest of the night, because Isaac had shown up wet and freaked out in his bedroom, and Scott didn't know how to handle it.

Isaac finally came back into Scott's room almost an hour later. (Scott didn't push him, if Isaac needed an hour long shower, let him have it.) He stood in the doorway pulling at the hem of a fresh, dry shirt, and biting the inside of his cheek as he cast his glance about the room. Scott watched Isaac from his desk for a long moment before silently leading Isaac to his bed in the middle of the room and sitting him down. 

Scott hovered for a moment, then knelt down in front of Isaac, looking up at him though he resolutely looked away. Scott wanted to say something, something to help, but he couldn't find the words. So instead, he reached out and tentatively took Isaac's wrist in his hand. When Isaac didn't pull away, he took the other. Scott held his wrists gently, but firm, never squeezing or becoming rough, just patiently watching Isaac, as Isaac breathed raggedly. Isaac's hands, limp against his legs, slowly closed, opened, then closed again. Isaac blinked once, twice, then screwed his eyes shut, and collapsed against Scott's shoulder. 

Scott was taken off guard, but only for a moment. He stood, and stepped closer, balancing himself with a knee on the bed beside Isaac. He let go of Isaac's wrists and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Isaac sucked in a breath, his face resting against Scott's chest now, then dug his hands into Scott's shirt, holding him tight.

And they stayed like that for a long time. Silent, but for shuddering breaths escaping from Isaac, wrapped around each other perched on the edge of Scott's bed.

They heard a door close in the house, snapping them back into reality. They both let go of each other, Scott ran a hand through his hair, and Isaac snuffled and looked at the floor.

"It's probably my mom," Scott said. "I'll go, I'm gonna go talk to her."

Isaac nodded, still looking away.

Scott moved to his door and opened it, then stopped and turned back to Isaac. Isaac's whole body was slack, like he'd lost all of his energy. But he looked up at Scott with a hesitant, grateful, smile.   Scott gave one in return, and disappeared down the hallway. 

The moment Scott was gone the smile disappeared. Isaac was exhausted from fighting the fire burning in his nerves. He let out a soft breath and wrapped his arms around his waist falling backwards on the bed. It was comfortable, and he curled up into a ball on it contemplating how his life had rapidly become a pile of shit yet again. His troubles, familiar and repetitive like counting sheep, eased him into tiredness, and then into a half sleep. 

Scott found him curled up at the end of his big double bed when he got back. (Melissa had agreed to let him stay almost as quickly as he, himself had. But he took the time to explain some of the things that were going on. It was easier now that she knew what they were.) He gently roused Isaac so Isaac could move to a more comfortable position fully on the bed. He moved lazily, not awake but neither asleep, but after Scott tossed a blanket over him, Isaac's hand moved out to stop him. 

Scott waited, Isaac's hand reaching toward him across the bed where he stood at the edge. Eventually, Isaac pulled his head off of the pillow and peeked up at him, one eye shut against the light, one squinting painfully. 

"Don't," he said, voice already thick with sleep. "You don't— You don't have to sleep on the floor. This is your bed, you should sleep here."

Scott just smiled down at him, cheery despite, "I don't mind, I've slept on the floor dozens of times, it's not actually that bad."

"No," Isaac began, then stopped. "It's big enough for us both." 

It sounded like a question, asking permission.

Scott looked down at Isaac, wondering.

"Stay?" Isaac asks.

And something broke in Scott, and his shoulders drooped, and he cocked his head to the side, and said simply and softly,

"Okay." 

Three steps and he's crossed the room to turn out the light, two steps and he's on his bed crawling toward the bit on the left where Isaac turned down the covers. Isaac sighed into the pillow he'd adopted (Scott's favorite), and Scott took another to lay on his side facing him. They laid in the silence of the bedroom together for a moment before quietly, so quiet Scott almost doesn't catch it, 

"Thank you." 

Scott's eyes flew open. Isaac was facing him, looking weary and wary, Scott made to move, but hesitated, looking up at Isaac first. He gave a small nod, and Scott reacted instantly, moving himself closer to Isaac, pulling him in close, and holding him tight. Isaac folded himself up as small as he could, to fit into Scott's arms, and neither of them say a word. Because Scott figures it'll be a while before Isaac will want open up and talk. And if he can't talk with Isaac about whatever pain he has, then he'll just have to be there for him physically. A solid, tangible presence that Isaac doesn't have to let go of. 

And he doesn't.

And in the morning, jarred awake by alarms, Scott finds him still holding on.


End file.
